#thunderbirds thg au

[tanushakyrano]

Welcome to the thing I've been working on for almost two years! The full chapter is on AO3. Updates will be every Friday :)

_____________________________________

i. reaping

Blearily, Scott peels his eyes open. For a moment he forgets what day it is, and for a moment he lies there, blissfully unaware. Then his brain catches up with his body.

Reaping Day.

He wishes he was still asleep.

The room is still just about dark, silvery light of the moments before sunrise casting unearthly shadows across the walls. It must be before six - only the earliest of risers will be awake today, as no one in the district is expected to work for once - but Scott knows that there is no point trying to get another hour or so of sleep, no matter how much he may need it. Instead he rises, carefully tucking the sheets back around his little brother. Strictly speaking, Alan shares a bed with Virgil, but more often than not he finds his way into Scott’s bed at some point during the night. It seems to help him with the nightmares.

Scott changes quickly and quietly, careful not to disturb his brothers as they sleep. Virgil is in the bed opposite to his. His hand is thrown across his face in an unconscious attempt to keep the dim light off his eyes and let him stay asleep for a few more precious minutes. Scott doesn’t begrudge him the rest. Honestly, he’d much prefer to be asleep himself. But nerves have gotten the best of him, and so he leaves him and Alan in their bedroom and creeps down the stairs.

Reaping Day seems to get worse every year. If he’s honest, it was almost a blessing the first time; the grain and oil he received for signing up for the tesserae had quite literally saved all their lives. But each year means more names in the bowl, more of a chance that he might actually end up being chosen.

It also means more of his brothers are eligible for the Reaping right alongside him. That terrifies Scott more than anything.

This year - his fifth - his name will be in that glass bowl forty-two times. Forty-two. One more name each year, on top of the six tesserae he takes for his brothers, his grandmother, and himself. Nine isn’t exactly the largest district. It isn’t improbable that his name could be on the slip of paper Clodia reads out on that stage. All the same, he doesn’t regret taking the tesserae. John had offered to split the responsibility between them as soon as he’d turned twelve himself, but Scott adamantly refused. Same with Virgil and Gordon once they were eligible too. Alan hadn’t even bothered to argue this year when Scott had turned his offer down.

The first floor of their little house is just as dimly lit as the second, but he can still make out the peeling wallpaper and dingy, rickety furniture. Once, the place had been… not beautiful, exactly. But nice. Warm. Homey. Even though their father had moved into the Victor’s Village just before marrying their mother, he insisted on doing up the old family farmhouse which remained in his name with a portion of his winnings. For the kids, he’d said - at least that’s what Scott’s grandma had told him – because they’d only be allowed to stay there whilst Jeff was still alive. It was a rickety old building and there was only so much Jeff could do even with his winnings, but he’d done his best to make it pleasant, spending weeks doing all of the work himself with the supplies he’d bought. Their father had likely not expected them to need the house so soon, but that was life, wasn’t it? Unpredictable. Cruel. And over time, the house had decayed, their minimal funds all going towards food and clothes (who knew kids could grow so fast?) rather than towards fixing the dodgy leg on the armchair or the broken slats on one of the beds.

Maybe Scott should be ashamed, embarrassed, that his kid brothers are growing up in a place like this, so far removed from the mansion that he’d spent his first years running around in. He does feel some guilt. But he’s kept them all alive, though, hasn’t he? 

Isn’t that enough?

[skywailer]

Hi guys!  So, I’ve made it to 3.6k followers!  Even with the ghosting and everything, so thank you so much for sticking around.  As a thank you, I’ve compiled a follow appreciation post to really show how grateful I am to have you guys around.  There’s a few things I’d love to do for you!

How much do I appreciate you?  Well, here’s how much!  I will do...

⚡️ an HP aesthetic rating & blog love

and/or one of the following

🌙 a personal mood board tailored just for you and your interests

⭐ a url graphic

📜 ficlet for your choice of pairing

📷 icon bundle for your choice of characters/colors

How will you receive this love?

mbf this colorful Trash Can

must reblog this post (likes are bookmarks)

send me a letter with the icons of what you’d like!

See below the cut for the formats and/or requirements! If you don’t want to see the ratings, block #followapp.  Thanks again!  😍 😍 

⚡️ an HP aesthetic rating:

era:  fantastic beasts | marauders | harry potter | next generation

house: gryffindor | hufflepuff | ravenclaw | slytherin

familiar: owl | cat | toad | rat | rabbit | raven | pygmy/puffskein | streeler | other

wand wood: acacia | alder | apple | ash | aspen | beech | blackthorn | black walnut | cedar | cherry | chestnut | cypress | dogwood | ebony | elder | elm | english oak | fir | hawthorn | hazel | holly | hornbeam | larch | laurel | mahogany | maple | pear | pine | poplar | redwood | rowan | silver lime | spruce | sycamore | vine | walnut | willow | yew

wand core: dragon heartstring | phoenix feather | unicorn tail hair | veela hair | thestral tail hair | thunderbird tail feather | white river monster spine | rougarou hair | horned serpent horn

best subject: astronomy | charms | defense against the dark arts | flying | herbology | history of magic | potions | transfiguration

worst subject:   astronomy | charms | defense against the dark arts | flying | herbology | history of magic | potions | transfiguration

elective:  arithmancy | care of magical creatures | divination | muggle studies | study of ancient runes

mentor/best friend: harry | hermione | ron | ginny | luna | neville | draco | pansy | blaise | lee | fred & george | dean | seamus | cho | lavender | cedric

hangout: astronomy tower | library | lake | room of requirement | great hall | common room | forbidden forest | greenhouses | hagrid’s hut | quidditch pitch

patronus:

headcanon for you, an OC:

blog compliments:

🌙 a personal mood board tailored just for you and your interests:

send me a general list along with the icon of what you like most in the word; favorite quotes, colors, foods, songs, shapes, style. What’s your aesthetic?  

⭐ a url graphic

please make sure it’s HP/SPN/THG related!

I will tag you on the edit when it’s done, and send you a link!

📜 ficlet for your choice of pairing

send me the coupling (both names, no couple abbreviations) + what setting you’d prefer and if you want anything specific to happen or be said like so:

ex: harry + ginny / zombie apocalypse AU + “yolo”  (I s2g if someone sends me this)

I will tag you on the ficlet when it’s done, and send you a link!

📷 icon bundle for your choice of characters/colors

send me who/what you want as your icon(s), how many you want (max 6) and if you prefer color/vintage-faded/bw

ex: emma watson + hermione granger, 6, half color half bw

I will tag you on the bundle when it’s done, and send you a link!

Maximum one request + blograte!  Enjoy, and thank you again for following!!!

[idontknowreallywhy]

Well that is one heck of a start!!!

I have still not read or seen THG, but I think I know enough to see where this is going and I fear for them!!!

Welcome to the thing I've been working on for almost two years! The full chapter is on AO3. Updates will be every Friday :)

_____________________________________

i. reaping

Blearily, Scott peels his eyes open. For a moment he forgets what day it is, and for a moment he lies there, blissfully unaware. Then his brain catches up with his body.

Reaping Day.

He wishes he was still asleep.

The room is still just about dark, silvery light of the moments before sunrise casting unearthly shadows across the walls. It must be before six - only the earliest of risers will be awake today, as no one in the district is expected to work for once - but Scott knows that there is no point trying to get another hour or so of sleep, no matter how much he may need it. Instead he rises, carefully tucking the sheets back around his little brother. Strictly speaking, Alan shares a bed with Virgil, but more often than not he finds his way into Scott’s bed at some point during the night. It seems to help him with the nightmares.

Scott changes quickly and quietly, careful not to disturb his brothers as they sleep. Virgil is in the bed opposite to his. His hand is thrown across his face in an unconscious attempt to keep the dim light off his eyes and let him stay asleep for a few more precious minutes. Scott doesn’t begrudge him the rest. Honestly, he’d much prefer to be asleep himself. But nerves have gotten the best of him, and so he leaves him and Alan in their bedroom and creeps down the stairs.

Reaping Day seems to get worse every year. If he’s honest, it was almost a blessing the first time; the grain and oil he received for signing up for the tesserae had quite literally saved all their lives. But each year means more names in the bowl, more of a chance that he might actually end up being chosen.

It also means more of his brothers are eligible for the Reaping right alongside him. That terrifies Scott more than anything.

This year - his fifth - his name will be in that glass bowl forty-two times. Forty-two. One more name each year, on top of the six tesserae he takes for his brothers, his grandmother, and himself. Nine isn’t exactly the largest district. It isn’t improbable that his name could be on the slip of paper Clodia reads out on that stage. All the same, he doesn’t regret taking the tesserae. John had offered to split the responsibility between them as soon as he’d turned twelve himself, but Scott adamantly refused. Same with Virgil and Gordon once they were eligible too. Alan hadn’t even bothered to argue this year when Scott had turned his offer down.

The first floor of their little house is just as dimly lit as the second, but he can still make out the peeling wallpaper and dingy, rickety furniture. Once, the place had been… not beautiful, exactly. But nice. Warm. Homey. Even though their father had moved into the Victor’s Village just before marrying their mother, he insisted on doing up the old family farmhouse which remained in his name with a portion of his winnings. For the kids, he’d said - at least that’s what Scott’s grandma had told him – because they’d only be allowed to stay there whilst Jeff was still alive. It was a rickety old building and there was only so much Jeff could do even with his winnings, but he’d done his best to make it pleasant, spending weeks doing all of the work himself with the supplies he’d bought. Their father had likely not expected them to need the house so soon, but that was life, wasn’t it? Unpredictable. Cruel. And over time, the house had decayed, their minimal funds all going towards food and clothes (who knew kids could grow so fast?) rather than towards fixing the dodgy leg on the armchair or the broken slats on one of the beds.

Maybe Scott should be ashamed, embarrassed, that his kid brothers are growing up in a place like this, so far removed from the mansion that he’d spent his first years running around in. He does feel some guilt. But he’s kept them all alive, though, hasn’t he? 

Isn’t that enough?